


You Think You Can Take Me?

by fictionalthirst



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Acquaintances to Lovers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Prompto Argentum, Blow Jobs, D/s lite, Destructive Habits, Experienced Prompto Argentum, Future Working Relationship, Homosexual Gladiolus Amicitia, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Inexperienced Gladiolus Amicitia, M/M, Misunderstanding, Pining, Praise Kink, Rimming, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Unrequited Ignoct (referenced), Wrestling, contentious but not violent or non-consensual, conveniently not dealt with in the text
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:46:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25618309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalthirst/pseuds/fictionalthirst
Summary: Prompto feels like Insomnia has no place for him as he graduates from high school, even as the Prince's best friend in the world. Looking for belonging and a meaningful future, he follows Noctis's suggestion that he enter the Crownsguard. Ignis approves. Gladiolus seems less than confident that Prompto will succeed.Why the hell does he even care what Gladiolus thinks?
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	1. stray

**Author's Note:**

> This fic supposes that people of the Imperial Continent (Niflheim, Tenebrae, etc) are fair haired and that Lucians (specifically the ones within Insomnia's walls) favor dark hair. Also, Ignis is Tenebraen, in this conceit, due to his accent matching Lunafreya’s. *shrugs*
> 
> This is going to go places. I told myself my next one would be a one-shot, but it got away from me.

Prompto Argentum wasn’t what one would expect of a best friend to royalty. He was a commoner, he was a foreigner, and he was trained in no forms of combat or defense. Noctis’s only other friends were both highborn and well versed in all sorts of battle arts, as well as born and raised within the Crown City, right alongside the Prince.

It was enough that Prompto felt the citizens of Lucis’s eyes on him day in and out, his fair hair a constant glowing beacon of his otherness, so much so that he often considered whether covering the tattoo on his wrist was even necessary; it was obvious he didn’t belong among the throng of dark haired people. Surprising, to say the least, that the Lucian nationals had no problems with their Prince’s betrothal to the Oracle of Tenebrae, with her looks favoring her homeland on the Imperial continent.

Prompto supposed that if he had the ability to purge the Starscourge from the people, they’d welcome him a bit more warmly.

Despite the constant low-level judgement he felt every day, Prompto lived life mostly upbeat. It was only forty percent out of spite and at least fifty percent genuine. The remaining ten percent he reserved for the really hard days when he had to fake it, which happened at least once every couple of months, when he felt too down to even set foot out of bed.

It was the last semester of his high school career, and Prompto still hadn’t decided what to do about the future. There were plenty of options; he had good enough grades to apply for scholarships and had already received one, in fact, due to his foreign citizen status. It was rather generous, and would probably net him at least two years of classes at a modest school, books and materials not included. 

Still, he was uncertain. He had a lot of skills, but nothing he could truly see as a viable career. He loved photography, and even among his peers at school he stood out, having won the past three Arts and Culture festival awards for Outstanding Photography. He was poised to win his fourth at the annual event taking place in two weeks. Would such a thing pay the bills, though? He hadn’t truly done any research into the subject, hoping to keep his passion for his hobby rather than trying to monetize it.

The other skill he favored would certainly pay his bills, but he lacked passion for it, despite his affinity. His skills with machinery and computers were far more well-known than even his photographs; he practically worked as IT for the entirety of his apartment building, as well as many of his teachers.

There was a third option, but his insecurity with his social standing was a huge blockade. Noctis had mentioned several times that he would be more than welcome to join the Crownsguard, as his father was well fond of him and approved greatly of his son’s friends being prepared not only to guard Noctis’s life, but their own, given how inevitable it might be for danger to come their way.

Prompto had begun basic athletic training on his own with a neighborhood acquaintance; a man he’d seen running when he’d first begun to lose weight as an adolescent. It turned out that the gentleman - Eonis - had been a retired ‘Glaive, having been forced to quit the squad when he’d suffered an injury in combat. He had been running to keep his health up, and he and Prompto eventually bonded in an older-brother-younger-brother fashion.

Eonis often encouraged him to join up with the Crownsguard, too, even despite the injury he’d suffered in the King’s Army.

So it was with great trepidation that Prompto confided in Noctis of his interest in beginning the course of rigorous physical training needed to test in for the ‘Guard. Noctis was thrilled, or as thrilled as he managed to look with a soft smile and nudge to Prompto’s elbow as he congratulated him. He promised to speak with his father as soon as possible to begin the application process so that Prompto would have access to the gyms in the Citadel.

Ignis was a bit more congratulatory, a long-fingered hand pressing to his back as he smiled down on Prompto with that parental affection that he seemed to reserve for Prompto alone; he didn’t even look at Noctis in such a fashion. That evening, Ignis cooked Prompto’s favorite meal of spicy rib steaks, despite Noctis’s grumbling about the peppers in the recipe.

Gladiolus, however, did not seem impressed. He congratulated Prompto, sure, but what followed was an hour long lecture about all the changes he would need to make to his day-to-day routine to account for all the extra training he’d need to even make it to the testing round, as well as the assurance that his late nights hanging out and gaming with Noctis would interfere in his progress if he did not take it seriously. 

Prompto bit down on the retorts that surged through his mind; _Noctis managed to keep his life in order and still have time for fun_ , _Prompto had already been working hard on his physical fitness for years - even more so in the last three months_ , _It was like Gladiolus didn’t want him to succeed!_

Ignis chimed in from the kitchen with encouragement while Noctis seethed beside Prompto, clearly agitated at Gladiolus’s attitude but not willing to get in a knock-down drag-out fight on movie night. It seemed that Ignis’s pointed remarks had done the trick, and Gladiolus ended the lecture with an expression of “hope” that Prompto “knew what he was getting into”.

Even that didn’t compare to the disappointment he felt later that night.

Noctis had passed out under his throw blanket on the couch about ten minutes before the movie’s climax. Prompto excused himself to the restroom once the credits began to roll. He splashed some water on his face, looked deep into his own strangely iridescent irises, wondering if Gladiolus just… didn’t like him at all.

It shouldn’t matter, really. He was just one man out of the hundreds if not thousands that did not want anyone from the Imperial continent, let alone Niflheim, in their closed off, safe world. Gladiolus was tasked with Noctis’s safety more than anyone in the Crown City, so it was natural for him to be wary. Still, Prompto felt hurt that, even after more than a year of knowing Gladiolus more intimately than just friend-of-a-friend, he still seemed to dislike him. It was a major reason he stubbornly refused to call him by the shortening of his name that both Noctis and Ignis favored. They weren’t close enough for that.

Drying his hands, he resolved to push the feeling that was too close to longing down inside him, keep his chin up, and then make an excuse to leave and slink home to mope about it in the privacy of his own apartment.

As he walked down the corridor, his footfalls soft in socked feet, he heard a low argument in the open kitchen between the gruff voice of Gladiolus and the lilting Tenebraen accent of Ignis’s tenor.

“I like the kid, Ig, I really do,” Gladiolus was whisper-shouting, “But he’s untrained and undisciplined.” A thrill shivered up Prompto’s arms at the admission of fondness, grudging though it sounded, and immediately followed by a lack of confidence in him.

“I think you’re really giving him too little credit,” Ignis countered, much more incensed than Prompto had ever seen the temperate man. That he was fighting in Prompto’s defense squirmed pleasantly into his stomach, though it couldn’t match the yawning ache of Gladiolus’s disapproval. “He’s near to the top of his class, and has several prestigious grants coming his way when he graduates this spring - not that he knows about them, yet. One does not receive such things by being a layabout.”

“Book learning does not make him ready for the challenge of being a Crownsguardsman,” Gladiolus countered, infuriatingly correct. But he didn’t have to show such a violent objection to Prompto simply _trying_.

“And it looks like book learning also cannot teach compassion,” Ignis muttered, his anger clearly dying away into resignation. “I understand your hesitation, but he is by no means going to be the only person standing in between Noct and death. We’ll always be there.”

Gladiolus was clearly chewing on what Ignis had said, silent and fuming just out of Prompto’s line of sight.

Prompto wanted to run home, but the door was past the open kitchen. He wanted to walk out confidently, as if he’d never heard their squabble, but the shaking of anger and frustration in his limbs would give him away.

Prompto supposed the answer was to choose the braver route - and perhaps that would be one small step to changing Gladiolus’s mind.

He walked back into the common area as tall as he could manage, ignoring the sudden stilted demeanor of his elders as they tried for casual body language upon his return. Leaning over the couch, he tickled the hairs dangling in Noctis’s face to wake him.

“Hey Noct,” Prompto said, his voice low and soothing as if he wasn’t trying to irritate his best friend awake. “I’m heading home. You should go to bed, you’ll get a crick in your neck.”

“Mmmn,” Noctis groaned, batting Prompto’s hand away. “Get home safe.”

“Will do, buddy,” Prompto smiled. At least Noctis had full confidence in him. It was great that Ignis had defended him, but his assertion that Prompto would never be the deciding factor between Noctis’s life and death, as if he wouldn’t put himself in harm’s way to protect his only friend, wasn’t exactly evidence that he believed in Prompto the way Noctis did.

Prompto grabbed his jacket off the arm of the couch and slung it over his shoulders before giving a small wave to the others. “‘Night, guys.” He made his way to the door.

“Wait a sec,” Gladiolus stopped him. “I’ll give you a ride, I’m heading home, too.”

“Gladio,” Ignis began, the slightest furrow to his brow.

“Night, Iggy,” Gladiolus ignored the tone of his Ignis’s voice. “I’ll see you at the handoff at lunch tomorrow.”

Prompto was not looking forward to another long lecture, but had no good reason to refuse Gladiolus’s invitation. He followed the larger man to the elevator, where they rode in silence to the underground parking garage.

Prompto was surprised when Gladiolus led him over to a motorbike and tossed him a small helmet he produced from a side pouch. It was pink and lime green, and Prompto wanted to laugh, but Gladiolus beat him to it with an explanation that it belonged to Iris.

Without any complaint, Prompto pushed the cute helmet over his hair and buckled it under his chin as Gladiolus mounted the machine and strapped his own helmet on (very deep purple, with black accents). Prompto slipped a leg over the bike, glad that his ass was tiny enough to fit on the miniscule end of the seat that wasn’t taken up by Gladiolus. It was a bit uncomfortable to be crotch-to-ass with the larger man, especially while he still felt some low level shame and anger bubbling in his gut, but Prompto shook it off and grabbed on to the seat behind him with both hands.

“You’re gonna want to hang on,” Gladiolus remarked, and Prompto opened his mouth to retort that he already was, but the larger man added, “She’s a bumpy ride and I don’t want you flying off.”

Prompto hesitantly gripped the back of Gladiolus’s jacket, a low rumble of a chuckle following. A strong arm reached behind him and guided Prompto’s hands around his waist.

“Don’t be shy,” There was a grin in his voice that sent a flush of embarrassment up Prompto’s face from his collarbones. He was supremely fortunate that Gladiolus had no way of seeing the mortification on Prompto’s face. “Okay, we’re off.”

Gladiolus liked to ride fast, surely only protected from censure by the Insomnian Police Force due to his status as Clarus Amicitia’s son and the junior Shield of the King. This was just one of the things that rubbed Prompto the wrong way about Gladiolus.

He wasn’t cocky about his status, but he definitely used it to his advantage a lot of the time. It afforded him lots of loopholes to the rules, and since Prompto was so beholden to them, in order to make as few waves as possible as an outsider, it irked him to watch Gladiolus simply brush them off or not even consider them in the first place. He had no concept of his privilege.

Prompto physically clung to another of Gladiolus’s characteristics that lowkey annoyed him; the man’s physical perfection. Even through his rough canvas jacket, Prompto could feel the ridges of Gladiolus’s muscled abdominals, pressed his small chest to the larger man’s rippled back. He was often pompous enough to walk around the Citadel in a shirt completely unbuttoned, or a tank top that clung to every angle and curve of his torso almost indecently. Sure, it was envy, and Prompto knew that was his own problem more than Gladiolus’s, but it was still a niggling pique all the same.

Thirdly, he used both of these things in order to flirt wildly with any woman he deigned to set his sights on, or at least as far as Prompto had observed whenever the four of them had gone out to enjoy an evening together. Diner, Restaurant or Bar, it didn’t matter. Gladiolus chatted up the waitresses or the hostesses or bartenders or patrons no matter where they went. More often than not, the flirtation ended before the four made their separate ways home, but there was once or twice that Gladiolus handed his duty off to Ignis and showed a lady to his car.

Maybe that one was burning in his gut for other reasons. Reasons Prompto wished would simply go away, or at least listen to the logic of his brain.

Prompto knew that Gladiolus’s disdain hurt him deeply due to the irrational crush he had developed, but it didn’t make him feel any better; quite the opposite. He’d tried to assert to himself that his feelings were absurd, unsound, down right raving mad, especially considering the amount of frustration he felt at the older man. Not only that, but Gladiolus was practically royalty. Near enough, anyway. As well as painfully, agonizingly straight as an arrow. Not to mention seemed to just barely tolerate Prompto in general.

Why then, did his heart thump painfully everytime the man walked into the room, or looked his way, or showed him any genuine approval? Why did he seek it so badly?

It was baffling.

They were at Prompto’s apartment across town in mere minutes, taking side alleys and shooting through corner parking lots to avoid lights. As improper as it all was, Prompto couldn’t help but feel a thrill of exhilaration as they banked and swerved around the city. He doubted he’d ever have had the guts to ride so hard on his own.

“Hey,” Gladiolus said as Prompto handed him the spare helmet. “You know I’m gonna help you, right? If you ever need any extra training.”

Prompto felt his entire body flush, and hoped it was dark enough in the alley beside his building to hide it. “Mm-hmm.”

“Good,” Gladiolus said with a swift, affirming nod. “See you tomorrow?”

“Hmm?” Prompto hadn’t expected to meet with Gladiolus the following day, given that it was a Saturday and he wouldn’t need to pick Noct up from classes.

“At lunch, with Noct?” Gladiolus clarified. “I’m dropping him off to Iggy, figured you’d be there, too.”

“Oh, yeah,” Prompto nodded. “Yeah, most likely. I’ve got a thing in the morning, but I’ll probably be there.”

“Well, I’ll hang around for a few minutes if you’re not there when we arrive,” Gladiolus crooked one side of his mouth in a lopsided grin. “Get some sleep, Prom.”

“Mmm,” Prompto drew his arms around himself, stomach suddenly full of bees, stupidly nodding again. “You too.”

Gladiolus patted his arm before reaching for the handlebar and gunning the engine. As he sped off, Prompto felt the tremor in his knees and walked carefully to the stairwell, up to his apartment.

It was a studio, and thankfully it took very few steps to move through the common space, shed his jacket, boots and pants and flop down on to his bed, burying his face in the pillows and groaning in self-loathing.

Any bit of care or praise from Gladiolus and he melted. It didn’t matter, now, that the implication of Gladio’s support was that Prompto wouldn’t be able to handle it on his own. Gladiolus wanted to help him. Make him better.

Prompto resolved to show him that he could do this, become stronger, become something maybe not in equal to Gladiolus, but at least closer than the nothing that the man seemed to perceive him as.

[*~~|~~*]

In three months, Prompto had won the Outstanding Photography award once again, received a special award for Extraordinary Effort at the event as well, and graduated third in his class, just a few points above Noctis. The week before leaving school, he’d also been notified that several of his teachers had nominated him for scholarships, and he’d won them all. It was an overwhelming amount of money, and it just brought on more anxiety, having so many options.

Ignis had agreed to help Prompto with a little counsel to decide what he would do with his future.

He’d also spent the past three months gearing up for his testing into the Crownsguard. A lot of early mornings and late nights, and he’d seen quite an improvement in his agility and muscle definition. He’d begun taking photos of himself every day just as he had done in his youth, and the slim, toned build he’d had after the weight loss had transformed into defined lines and thicker muscle in his legs and arms.

Prompto was fairly confident that he could achieve at least nine out of ten objectives that he’d be put under for the test, but the final one… there was really only one way to find out, and he’d been avoiding it for as long as possible.

Prompto would be expected to hold his own against a larger Crownsguardsman for five full minutes, the basis for eventually being able to take a larger opponent completely to the mat.

The only person he could ask to practice on was the one person he was trying to avoid showing off his new skills. He wanted to surprise Gladiolus on his first day in the official Crownsguard training, but at this point, he’d rather assure that he even had the chance to join.

It was with tensed muscles and fluttering in his abdomen that he texted Gladiolus for the first time.

 **prom-bomb:** Hey, sorry for the late text, I hope this doesn’t wake you.  
 **gladiolus a:** No problem, I’m still up, reading.  
 **prom-bomb:** Ah, nice. What’s the book?  
 **gladiolus a:** Historical Romance.

Prompto blinked, surprised the usually macho Guardian would read such a genre.

 **prom-bomb:** Wouldn’t have pegged you for the type to read romance.  
 **gladiolus a:** I like what I like, what can I say?  
 **prom-bomb:** Oh, no judgement! Just surprised.  
 **gladiolus a:** Good. What’s up?  
 **prom-bomb:** I have a bit of a favor to ask, if you don’t mind? I mean, you offered a few months ago, so…  
 **gladiolus a:** Finally going to ask for my help with training, huh? To be honest I wondered if you’d given up on the Crownsguard. Kinda pissed me off.

Prompto was taken aback at Gladiolus’s frank admission of anger toward him. It always seemed like Gladiolus was diplomatic about his frustration around Noctis’s friends, specifically Prompto. Immediately following his shock, a low anger began to simmer in his gut. He really thought that just because Prompto hadn’t asked for his help that he hadn’t taken the work into his own hands? What an arrogant son of a bitch.

 **prom-bomb** Nope, I’ve been training pretty hard for the past few months. You’re not the only person in Insomnia that has experience. I’ve been working pretty closely with Eonis Rentel, a neighbor of mine that was a former ‘Glaive.  
 **gladiolus a:**...  
 **gladiolus a:**  
 **gladiolus a:**...  
 **gladiolus a:** Damn, okay. Yeah, he’d probably be better than me, actually.  
 **gladiolus a:** You must be cut as hell now, I know he and his squad were pretty intense about their daily regimens.  
 **prom-bomb:** Hah, I don’t know if I’ll ever be “cut” but yeah, I’ve got way more definition now.

When Gladiolus didn’t answer for a few moments, Prompto decided that he should just come out with what he wanted from the man.

 **prom-bomb:** So I need to be able to stay in the ring with a Crownsguardsman of a larger weight class to qualify in, and I was hoping you’d help me prepare for that.  
 **gladiolus a:** I can meet tomorrow evening, once Ignis takes Noctis for his weekly dinner with His Majesty.  
 **prom-bomb:** Oh, ok.  
 **gladiolus a:** Something wrong with that? We can reschedule if you need to.  
 **prom-bomb:** No, it’s great. I just didn’t expect you to be free on a Friday evening with such short notice.  
 **gladiolus a:** I’m usually in on Friday nights. Saturday night is my night off, generally, so I rest up the night before.  
 **prom-bomb:** You’re sure I’m not imposing?  
 **gladiolus a:** I told you that I’d help, didn’t I? Let’s do it.  
 **prom-bomb:** Yeah, thanks.  
 **gladiolus a:** I’ll pick you up at six. Make sure to bring a change of clothes for after.

Prompto’s brows furrowed at the insistence. He could just walk home to shower, after. _Whatever, I guess._

 **prom-bomb:** Will do. See you at 6.  
 **gladiolus a:** ‘Night, Prom.

[*~~|~~*]

Prompto stood waiting by the entrance to his building waiting for Gladiolus to arrive. Whether the man would come by on his bike again, or his irritatingly loud truck, he wasn’t sure; but he chose to bag up his towel, water bottle and extra clothes in a backpack rather than the duffle he usually used. It was getting chilly at night, and Prompto debated whether he’d have time to run back upstairs to grab a hoodie when he heard the unmistakable roar of Gladiolus’s old clunker as it made its way down the small alley, taking up most of the lane.

The truck was maybe one of the worst things about Gladiolus, and Prompto frankly could not understand why someone of his means would drive around in such a trashy, loud, enormous vehicle other than to draw attention to himself. The truck honestly made Prompto wonder if Gladiolus was insecure of his manhood.

Regardless, Prompto pulled himself up and into the cab when Gladiolus came to a full stop, shrugging off his bag after hauling himself inside.

“Hey,” Prompto greeted him, yanking the seatbelt across his chest, knowing they’d be screaming down the roads once they’d cleared the tiny alley street.

“Ready to kick my ass?” Gladiolus smirked, lurching forward as he pressed the gas.

 _Oh, I would love to,_ Prompto thought, but instead chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”

“I hope so,” Gladiolus commented, checking the traffic on the cross street.

Prompto had no response that would allow him to retain his dignity, so he asked instead, “Where are we gonna do this? I still don’t have a pass to the Citadel gyms.”

“I’ve got a workout room at my place,” Gladiolus said as he flipped the noisy heater on. “Mats and everything. That way there won’t be an audience. It’s usually pretty intimidating to try to take me down in front of a group of other scrawny trainees.”

“Yeah, I guess that is a pretty good idea,” Prompto both felt relieved at Gladiolus’s suggestion and twice as nervous, being alone in Gladiolus’s apartment, surrounded by his smell and intruding on the intimacy of his private living space.

They parked in the underground lot and rode the elevator to a very high floor, the doors opening to a short hallway that held only one door.

 _What a rich bastard,_ Prompto frowned. It was further compounded by entering behind Gladiolus and finding the place decorated to perfection in modern minimalist furniture and art, potted plants and wide, open planes of glass showing the skyline of the city, the Citadel looming beautifully against the backdrop of slowly darkening sky beyond the purple shimmer of The Wall.

“You can toss your bag anywhere,” Gladiolus stepped into his kitchen, opening the fridge to produce two bottles of flavored water. “I’m gonna change, you can head to the second door on the right. First door is the bathroom if you need it.”

“‘Kay,” Prompto wandered toward the door to the training room and found it perfectly stocked with weights, mats, mirrors and various other workout equipment, as well as nearly the size of his whole apartment. Shaking his head at the opulence, he set his bag just outside the room, between the doors, pulled off his track pants in favor of his spandex shorts, and began to stretch.

He was in the middle of stretching his hamstrings, pushing both hands flat to the floor as he straightened his legs, when Gladiolus entered the room.

“Whoa,” Gladiolus commented, Prompto bolting upright, face flushed. “Prom, your legs are monsters. Couldn’t tell under those loose track pants.”

“Yeah,” Prompto blushed, wanting nothing but to divert attention from any part of him that Gladiolus could compliment. “I’ve built a lot of muscle, surprisingly.”

“No kidding,” Gladiolus brushed a knuckle across his bicep. Prompto honestly wished for death. “I knew Eonis would have worked you hard.”

If Prompto could have melted through the floor, he would have.

“I’m gonna stretch for a few minutes and then we’ll set the timer.”  
“Sounds good,” Prompto answered, even if, at that moment, it did not.

Once they had both limbered, Gladiolus tapped at his phone to give them five minutes.

“Now, I’m gonna start slow, but in the real bout, your opponent isn’t going to hold back,” The older man warned. “But it’s best to build up your confidence first, okay?”

“Sure,” Prompto nodded, not feeling confident at all.

“Okay, set for five minutes, thirty seconds. Take a moment to get ready.”

Gladiolus bent into a stance, and Prompto forced some looseness into his muscles. He was best when he used his speed and liquidity. Eonis had told him again and again that it would be the difference between him and a larger enemy.

Once he’d centered himself, Prompto felt the calm he normally experienced during training. An almost peace, ironically. He waited for Gladiolus to charge him, expecting the older man’s style to be fairly offensive, but when Gladiolus simply waited, he resolved to give him a run for his money.

Prompto felt a smirk spread across his lips, and with no warning, he slipped between Gladious’s legs, lifting a foot to slam into the broad back now in front of him, only for Gladiolus to turn quickly and block the move with crossed forearms.

Gladiolus was steady as a mountain, but Prompto used the backward momentum of the impact to flip, landing back on both feet as he tumbled out of the way of Gladiolus’s charge, sweeping a leg out and knocking Gladiolus off balance. Not off his feet, but still.

Prompto used the inertia of his swung leg to sweep back to his feet, out of the larger man’s range, waiting for the inevitable charge. When Gladiolus reached forward to grab him off the ground, Prompto leapt and stepped over Gladiolus’s shoulder, turning swiftly to slide front-to-back down the larger man’s body, pulling on his neck, attempting to bow the strong spine and get the floor under his feet again.

Gladiolus would not bend, and Prompto’s feet remained dangling. With a growl and a surge, Gladiolus whipped Prompto back over his head, and Prompto released him just before impact to somersault forward, once again out of reach.

“You’re good at running away,” Gladiolus taunted.

“Name of the game, dude,” Prompto shrugged. “I just have to stay in the ring with you for five minutes.”

“Come on,” Gladiolus beckoned him forward with a wave of his fingers. “You can take me.”

Prompto pushed aside the jolt of arousal, instead focusing on keeping his temper placid and not being goaded into making a stupid move.

“Someday,” Prompto promised with a confidence he didn’t truly feel, but he saw a flash in Gladiolus’s eyes just before he charged again.

Prompto tried to dodge out of the way but was just a moment too slow, taken hard to the mat with a great rush of air out of his lungs. He recovered quickly, trying to slither out of Gladiolus’s strong hands, but he was securely restrained to the floor.

In a desperate move, he twisted, throwing both legs around Gladiolus’s arms, pinning them awkwardly as Prompto grabbed both wrists and shoved his ankles into the muscle of the bigger man’s left shoulder, Gladiolus’s head wrenched backwards.

It was uncomfortable for both parties, and Gladiolus tried to roll out of it, but Prompto’s legs were _strong_.

“Ya give up, buddy?” Prompto laughed, breathless and just a little triumphant.

Gladiolus grunted in response, shifting with desperation, angry at the unexpected imprisonment. “Fuck, what the hell, Prompto?”

Gladiolus’s phone chimed, the five minutes up, and Prompto released his legs, sighing with relief as he laid, starfishing, as he caught his breath. Gladiolus supported himself over Prompto on his freed hands, breathing heavily and staring down at the smaller man, his face dripping with sweat, hair curling at the nape of his neck and forehead.

Prompto’s jovial attitude melted under the intense gaze of the Guardian, and he became uncomfortably aware of their position; Prompto’s thighs parted around Gladiolus’s, their chests mere inches away from each other’s, the enormity of Gladiolus looming over him under the frankly brilliant lights of the training room.

With no warning, Gladiolus leaned forward, his coarse stubble scraping across Prompto’s chin and lips as he claimed his mouth roughly, teeth biting and tongue forcing its way past Prompto’s teeth as he gasped in shock.

Whatever Prompto had imagined of Gladiolus’s kiss, it was overshadowed by the reality. He was an angry storm on the sea, a suffocating tide of water crashing all around Prompto, barely letting him up for air between crests. The weight of his chest crushed Prompto against the mat, the heat and the sweat of them both overwhelming. The shape of his arousal through his loose gym shorts firm against the answering bulge in Prompto’s skin tight leggings.

They grappled, Prompto pulling long brown hair, ripping off the tight black tank separating his hands from Gladiolus’s ridged flesh. Gladiolus closed a possessive hand around Prompto’s neck, just loose enough to allow breath, but tight enough to show dominance.

“Glad-” Prompto tried, but was silenced by more lips and teeth and the harsh scrape of Gladio’s chin against his already raw flesh.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you?” Gladiolus growled, hand tightening just a bit. “Ever since that night you said you wanted to join the Crownsguard, it’s all I could think about, getting that tight little ass of yours on the mat under me.”

Prompto had been thinking of this for far, far longer than that, but thought it might be a bit embarrassing to admit. Instead, he squirmed, a whine bursting from the back of his throat as Gladiolus’s other hand gripped the strain of his cock through his spandex.

“Roll over,” Gladiolus commanded, and Prompto did as he was told. Large, calloused hands slid the shorts down just enough to bare his bottom, and without ceremony, Gladiolus’s hands parted him and there was the hot, wet sensation of lips and tongue against his hole with just as much enthusiasm as Prompto’s mouth had experienced.

Prompto cried out, trying desperately to grip the mat, but failing to find a good hand hold, so he tried his best to keep himself contorted in the shape that would best serve Gladiolus’s work. His back arched dramatically as his chest pressed to the floor, his ass in the air, legs imprisoned in the tight material drawn down his thighs.

Gladiolus worked him open with both hands as well as his relentless mouth, until he all at once pulled off his entrance long enough to drag his nose down the cleft, nipping lightly at Prompto’s sac, until finally sucking one ball into his mouth and then the other.

Prompto wished he could reach his cock, but it was all he could do to keep himself in place.

“Well, Prom,” Gladiolus purred, a challenge in it as he pushed at least three fingers inside him. “Do you think you can take me?”

“Fuck,” Prompto gasped, feeling a spurt of precome dribble down his leg. “Fuck yeah, I can.”

Gladiolus growled with approval, shifting behind Prompto and pressing his hairy thighs to the back of the smaller man’s, the heavy weight of his cock nestled between Prompto’s cheeks. With a subtle repositioning, Prompto felt the thick bulb of Gladiolus’s tip against his relaxed entrance, and willed his body to loosen even though every nerve was on fire and excited.

It wasn’t the smoothest entrance, but for how little they’d prepared, it was pleasurable, and overwhelming. Gladiolus was _huge_ and Prompto was petite, but they fit together like interlocking puzzle pieces and the both of them loudly groaned as they were fully joined, like they had both slid perfectly home together.

Prompto could feel the rub of Gladio’s shorts against his ass, a thrill of joy running up his spine and straight to his cock that Gladio could barely wait to be inside him. He was still mostly dressed, himself, his loose tank pooling around his arms as he was bent under Gladio’s frantic thrusts.

“Gladiolus-!” Prompto cried, unable to do anything but hold on.

“Prom,” Gladio grunted, shifting to find a different angle, the battering ram of his cock finding the bundle of nerves that shot starlight into Prompto’s eyes. “I’m _inside you_. Call me Gladio, for fuck’s sake.”

“Gladio-!” Prompto obeyed. “Oh, gods!”

“Good boy,” Gladio purred, and the praise pulsed in Prompto’s cock. “You feel so fucking good - so tight and hot, I’m gonna make a mess in you-”

“ _Yes,_ ” Prompto pleaded. “Fucking wreck me, Gladio!”

“Touch yourself,” Gladio demanded. “Come for me.”

Prompto knew that the second he began to tug on his length, he’d be gone, but he could feel from the erratic stutter of Gladio’s hips that it would be just in time. He wedged his arm down as he awkwardly tried to keep his position with one arm, and gripped himself at the tip with a soft cry of ecstasy.

Gladio grew rougher, his thrusts punishing and clearly reaching for his own release. The moment his thick fingers dug into Prompto’s hips, the smaller man screamed with completion, shooting his spend across the mat, all the way up and into his shirt. He felt the hot pulse of Gladio’s orgasm inside him and then down the back of his legs as Gladio rocked twice more into him before stilling and sliding gingerly out.

Prompto collapsed to the floor, wincing as he landed in the wetness below him, but breathing a sigh of relief as the contortion of his body had been liberated.

Gladio rolled off him, leaning on one arm as he sat, somehow not as boneless as Prompto felt, as he tugged his shorts off and wiped his dick clean with them.

“Did you tell me to bring a change of clothes because you planned this?” Prompto laughed, tiredly, face squished against the floor.

“That was not my intention, no,” Gladio answered, face troubled.

Prompto tensed at the shift in mood. He could feel the waves of discomfort off the large man, trying to busy himself with his own clean up rather than turn any attention toward Prompto.

Stomach plummeting, Prompto hauled himself off the floor to yank up his shorts and grab his towel from the bench nearby, wiping the remains of their mistake from the surface of the mat as best he could with his vision swimming behind unshed tears.

He was so fucking embarrassed.

Gladio had fucked him, and instantly regretted doing it.

“Here,” Gladio offered from behind him, handing over a wet cloth. “This’ll probably work better.”

“Thanks,” Prompto said, hollowly, blinking back the liquid threatening to spill over . A few cursory wipes to the floor and the evidence was cleared. Gone and forgotten.

“You can use the shower, if you want,” Gladio offered, not looking Prompto in the eyes, thumb jerked toward the bathroom next door.

“‘Kay,” Prompto nodded, padding across the floor and out the door, grabbing his bag and track pants as he hid himself away in the bathroom. He wiped the rest of Gladio’s mess from himself as he squatted on the toilet.

Prompto could hear Gladio leave the training room, hoping that he had a master bath that he’d be retreating to, as he sobbed and drew his track pants back on. He was not going to shower here. He wasn’t going to stay another second.

After calming himself a moment, he stuffed the soiled towel into his bag and slung it over his shoulder, easing the door open quietly and sighing with relief as he heard the sound of a shower running from behind the door across the hall.

 _Thank fuck,_ Prompto breathed, and slipped quietly down the hall, wrenching his shoes onto his feet and grimacing at the feeling of even more of the evidence of their tryst seeped from himself. Thankfully, his pants would be able to hide the evidence until he made it home.

The elevator dinged as it arrived, and Prompto ducked inside. Halfway through the journey down, his phone chimed from within his bag. Rummaging for the proper pocket, he found a missed call from Gladio.

 _Shit, he’s a fast showerer,_ Prompto chewed on his thumbnail. _Fuck it. I don’t think I have to explain why I left._

 **gladiolus a:** Where’d you go?  
 **gladiolus a:** Prom, we need to talk.  
 **gladiolus a:** Can you come back?

 _No,_ Prompto thought, the elevator opening to the street level. _No, I don’t think I can come back from this._

[*~~|~~*]


	2. ebb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto is feeling the need to get out of the house and out of his head, after he makes some changes. It doesn't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drinking age in my Insomnia is 18. If you can sign up for the King's Army, you're old enough to drink a damn beer.

**ignasty:** Prompto, are you still available to meet tomorrow morning? Noct mentioned that you weren’t feeling well today.  
**ignasty:** Please be sure to let me know if you need anything.  
**prom-bomb:** yeah, i’ll be there, i’m feeling better. thanks  
**ignasty:** Happy to hear it. I will pick you up from your apartment at 8am.  
**prom-bomb:** see you then

Prompto rolled over, moaning as the hunger in his gut protested. He hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon, and it was only plain toast, so it was no wonder his body was objecting. He supposed he should get himself around, try to ease himself into some semblance of normal so that he wouldn’t appear too rough when he met up with Ignis in the morning.

He winced as he sat up, vertical for the first time in several hours despite the late hour of the day. It had been less than a full day since Gladio had pounded him into the mat, and he could swear he still felt a little sore, both physically and emotionally.

Gladio had called and texted several times, but Prompto _had_ to ignore them, a bile in the back of his throat if he thought too hard on the situation. He’d gone from absolute mind and body elation to utter devastation in mere seconds, and the nadir had been tough to crawl out of. Only an hour ago did he feel at all like even looking at the device, wanting to play a bit of King’s Knight to take his mind off of things, only to find another text message waiting for him.

 **g_a:** Don’t you think this is a little childish? You can’t ignore me forever.

Prompto flinched and swiped the message away, knowing full well that Gladio was right. It still didn’t stop him from waiting until he was ready - the wound no longer raw and bleeding, to confront the trap he’d been broken within.

The fridge was lacking anything desirable, so Prompto decided to throw on some clothes and make his way to the corner store to grab something quick and destructive. He’d be back to his training regiment Monday morning, so he could work off anything he consumed in his frustration.

Looking at himself in the mirror over the bathroom sink, he zoned out, blinking back into focus only when a tear splashed on his cheek. Angrily, he wiped it away, hating himself just a little more for spending so much time feeling sorry for himself.

His eyes were bloodshot, but still shined with that otherworldly iridescence. His hair was a wreck, the longer strands of the front tangled and the short back sticking up in all directions, but not in the controlled way he usually styled it. He brushed his teeth in a hurry and dragged a baggy hoodie over his head, topping the blond fluff with a slouchy beanie and pushing his glasses up his face.

Checking to make sure he had his phone, keys and wallet, he slipped on some beat-up shoes and locked the door behind him.

The shop on the corner had a little bit of everything, so he grabbed a microwave meal, ice cream and a soda, then spent a minute browsing the magazines.

“He’s hot, but too bad he’s a Niff,” A voice whispered nearby.

The slur felt like an arrow through the spine, and he threw a glare over his shoulder at the offender.

The boy was tall and thin, and had no business commenting on anyone’s appearance; he obviously hadn’t showered in days, and wore the most unflattering clothes possible over his scrawny frame. Prompto never felt comfortable judging people for their looks, but when the insides were loudly disgusting, the outside was even less palatable.

The guy and his friend snickered and made their way to the front to make their purchases. Prompto wanted to leave, too, but meandered to the next aisle to put distance between himself and the jerks at the counter.

That was when he saw the boxed hair dyes. There were various dark options, even bleach for blonding, and a few vivid colors as well. He’d never really considered altering his appearance for the comfort of the Insomnians around him, but he suddenly had a flash of the pathetic face he’d seen in the mirror, and he grabbed a box off the shelf.

Prompto stared at the instructions while he ate his microwaved dinner, emptying the contents on the counter. It seemed simple enough, it only took about forty minutes. The clock read quarter to ten at night. He’d be done just a little before eleven.

Just when the clubs would start to get pumping.

 _Fuck it,_ Prompto thought, tossing the trash from his dinner into the garbage bin. _I’m gonna go out tonight. A little dancing and drinking will take my mind off everything._

The dyeing process wasn’t exactly as easy as he’d thought - he’d dripped some below the collar of his shirt and it had stained, but luckily it was faint and in the dark of the club it wouldn’t be visible at all, depending on what he chose to wear. An hour later, he rinsed dark purple dye from his locks and watched the color lighten slightly under the heat of the blow dryer.

He decided to style his hair a little differently, as well. Not quite as high as usual, more casual, and it fell in soft waves as he parted it more severely. He briefly contemplated shaving the sides but it reminded him too much of someone he was trying not to think of at all and discarded the idea.

It had been a while since he’d gone out. Noctis didn’t like clubs, and since the one time he’d been kicked out for being underage, he hadn’t attempted to return. Now, he was over 18, and he could do what he liked.

He fished around in the drawer in his vanity and found a black liquid eyeliner, checked the expiration date and shrugged, applying a dark line across his lid with a slight wing. It was a dramatic look, but it matched his mood.

He chose a simple ripped tee, the thin fabric hanging off his frame a little less since he’d put on muscle. A pair of faux-coerl print pants in hot pink and black hugged his legs a bit more tightly than usual, but he was still able to breath while wearing them so he sucked it up and added an unnecessary but stylish belt. The jeans would probably have more give by the time he walked down to the club anyway.

Pulling his usual multi-buckle boots on, he readied himself to go out into the world again, feeling just a little bit less like himself and resolving to act less like it, too.

[*~~|~~*]

It was just after midnight when Prompto arrived at his former favorite nightclub, _Remedy_. The base was bumping and so were all of the people. Prompto felt relief that he would be able to slip into a crowd of dancers and completely lose himself. He scanned the crowd, finding the usual clubrats and excited youth of Insomnia. The bar wasn’t too packed, so he decided to grab a shot of liquid courage before he hit the dance floor.

He was almost delighted to show his ID, finally legally able to consume alcohol, and the bartender slipped him the shot with a flirtatious wink. He tossed her a few dollars and downed the swallow, a cinnamon flavored burn trailing down to his stomach. It felt _great_.

The dance floor was packed and he wove through the crowd to join the throng, bodies colliding in rhythm. Normally, he would feel self-conscious dancing alone, but tonight he’d promised that he would throw the old Prompto away and just _go with the flow_.

It wasn’t long before he felt a hand on his waist, guiding his hips back toward a strong thigh. Without turning around, without caring about who was handling him, Prompto ground back, enjoying the friction and the feeling of being desired.

A hot mouth descended to his ear as the hand on his hip slipped up and under his shirt, over his stomach. The music almost drowned out the stranger’s words: “You alone, beautiful?”

The deep rumble sent a shiver down Prompto’s spine, and he leaned back against the firm chest of the man behind him, reaching an arm up and around the man’s neck, a thick braid of hair soft under his questing fingers.

“Pretty much always,” Prompto answered. “Lucky you.”

“Mmm-hmm,” The stranger answered, his hand exploring further up as his other slipped two fingers below Prompto’s waistband, inches away from his crotch. “You drinking tonight?”

“I’m keeping my wits about me for now,” Prompto arched, dragging his backside up the front of the slight bulge in the stranger’s pants. “Maybe later you can convince me to get delirious.”

“I’d really prefer you to be alert when I take you home,” The man nibbled at Prompto’s earlobe.

“You’re confident,” Prompto smiled, leaning his head to one side so the stranger would trail his teeth down Prompto’s neck.

“You’re already in my arms,” The strange man asserted. “You’re coming home with _me_.”

Prompto was already worked up from the feeling of freedom; the possessive lust from this unknown man consumed him. He was already painfully hard in the unforgiving tightness of his pants.

“I only just got here,” Prompto tried to play coy, despite the obvious willingness to give in.

“I’ve been here for hours,” The man bit the side of his jaw gently. “No one has compared to you.”

“You’re good at this,” Prompto chuckled, a sigh escaping as a large hand cupped the shape of his manhood. He began to turn in the man’s arms, slipping both hands up over muscular shoulders. “Let’s get out-”

“Prompto-?!” Gladio looked down in horror, pulling his hands away and stepping back, causing Prompto to stumble forward.

 _This has to be some kind of horrible cosmic joke!_ Prompto gained his footing, and took a step back as well, colliding with an angry looking girl as he did. He apologized as she cursed him out, head whipping around to find an escape route. It was too late, Gladio had grabbed him by the wrist and led him through the crowd to the mostly empty hall near the restrooms.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Gladio asked, as if he were scolding an unruly teen.

“Same thing as you, apparently,” Prompto answered, snide. “What luck.”

Gladio stared, his anger seeming to cool into curiosity. A large hand reached up to slip fingers through the long strands of his hair shoved to the left side of his head.

“You looked like a completely different person out there,” Gladio told him, stepping closer, looking every bit like a different man himself, with his thick hair plaited behind him, button-up shirt hugging his pecs but pooling around his thin waist, tucked neatly into tight leather pants. “What made you do that?”

“I just didn’t feel like being me,” Prompto answered, angling his head away, pulling his hair out of Gladio’s grip. “Still don’t. Let’s just stay on opposite sides of the club, okay?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Gladio persisted. “Last night was-”

“Nope!” Prompto held up a hand. “This is exactly what I came here to avoid, okay? Obviously. Take a hint; when someone doesn’t text you back, they don’t want to talk to you.”

The look of hurt on Gladio’s face was a surprise, but Prompto bit back an apology. Gladio had made him feel like absolute shit, and he wasn’t going to get away with it because he flashed some sad puppy eyes at him.

“If that’s what you want,” Gladio shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets and heading toward the bar.

Prompto huffed out an exasperated breath, sagging. Well, this had been a complete bust. There was no way he’d get back the feeling of liberation and hedonism now. Waiting a few minutes, he followed the edge of the dancefloor to the door and looked back, watching Gladio down a drink and chat with the bartender that had winked at him only a few minutes ago.

Sighing, he slipped out the exit door and back onto the street, wondering how the hell they would ever be able to be in the same room together again.

[*~~|~~*]

Prompto jumped down the first flight of the stairs, startling his upstairs neighbor as the man climbed to his apartment. He apologized and instead began to take the steps two at a time until he burst from the front door and jumped into Ignis’s sleek sedan in the early morning light.

“Is your phone off?” Ignis asked, a slight edge in his voice. “I tried calling you a moment ago.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Prompto offered, breathless. “Rough morning.”

“I can see that,” Ignis raised an eyebrow. “Is that why you were delayed?”

“Huh?” Prompto’s brows contorted in confusion. Ignis pointed up at his head and he laughed. “Oh, that. No, I did this last night. I ended up going out later in the evening, so I didn’t get much sleep.”

“You could have called and rescheduled,” Ignis said, shifting the car into gear. “I trust you’ll be alert enough for today?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Prompto nodded. “I had a coffee. I’ll make it.”

“Why don’t we go and grab another while we’re out?” Ignis suggested, pulling onto the road with caution. “I could use some myself.”

“Rough night for you, too?” Prompto asked, concerned.

“Indeed,” Ignis answered, a bit grumpily. “Gladio got very, very inebriated and I was called to remove him from a nightclub last night. He’d gotten in an argument with another patron and our mutual acquaintance called me to come and fetch him. It was lucky she was working last night.”

Prompto’s eyes bulged as he looked out his window with guilt. “Does this happen often?”

“Not for a few years, no,” Ignis shook his head. “But I really shouldn’t be speaking of it with you. I’m not usually one to gossip, and it’s Gladio’s business.”

“It’s okay,” Prompto patted Ignis’s shoulder. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know, Prompto,” Ignis smiled softly at him. “I thank you.”

Prompto chewed on that information for the trip to the coffee shop. Gladio had walked away from him and gotten drunk enough to get into a brawl? He usually seemed so in control. Friday night notwithstanding. And this had happened before? Years ago?

 _I guess I know less than nothing about him,_ Prompto sighed.

They pulled into the parking area of the coffee shop, avoiding the overflowing drive thru. The restaurant was practically empty. Prompto ordered too many pastries and a small sugary drink, treating Ignis to a bagel and a large Ebony with a smile. They sat near the window that overlooked a small park with a collection of fountains.

“Nice morning,” Prompto said, smiling as he pushed up his glasses onto his nose better.

“So far, yes,” Ignis answered, pulling a folder from his case, a generous amount of papers within. “Now, I’ve taken the liberty of accessing your scholarship files and I’ve found that you have four in total, each of them affording you at least a full calendar school year. I wouldn’t be surprised if we find in the coming months that your awards will have drawn more attention and other offers.”

“Wow,” Prompto blinked, almost uncomprehending. “I don’t even understand how this happened.”

“You worked diligently,” Ignis furrowed an exasperated brow at him. “Your teachers were determined to reward you for it. Your work spoke for your character. It makes perfect sense to me.”

“Sheesh, Iggy,” Prompto blushed, fidgeting in his seat. “Okay, I get it.”

“Good,” Ignis broke eye contact to look back down at his papers.

Prompto almost wished he had fallen for Ignis, instead. He was beautiful, no doubt, not to mention kind and caring. Still, he knew that Ignis’s heart wasn’t free for the taking, despite the futility of his feelings. No one could get between him and Noctis. In a way, the two of them were peas in an unrequited pod.

“I’m not sure how to go about this,” Prompto confessed. “Can I just… pick wherever I want to go to school?”

“For three of the scholarships, yes,” Ignis answered. “But the fourth is very specifically for you to use at the Insomnian Academy of the Arts. I expect that’s where you’d want to go, anyway.”

“Well, as much as I love to take photographs, I can’t see a steady income in that,” Prompto shrugged. “I’d probably do better in IT.”

“I wouldn’t sell yourself short,” Ignis said, returning his attention to Prompto’s face. “If you begin building a portfolio and take some jobs on the side, there’s no reason you couldn’t become a photographer for a respected news outlet, or perhaps even open your own studio. Insomnia has her share of high profile events as well as the simple business of weddings and other such ceremonies.”

“You’re a pretty convincing dude, Ignis,” Prompto smiled. “I really do love to take photos.”

“Your affinity with computers would help a lot with developing your business, as well,” Ignis offered. “You have to know that you would have support if you wished to pursue this path. Noctis and His Majesty will care for you if times grow hard. You only need ask.”

“I know they’d do that,” Prompto shifted uncomfortably. “But I don’t want to rely on them. I want to make my way on my own.”

“I understand,” Ignis nodded. “Just keep it in mind.”

They chatted for several minutes about the application process for the IAA, and resolved to meet in a week’s time to fill out the application and review Prompto’s portfolio.

“And what of the Crownsguard?” Ignis asked. “Testing rounds begin in one month. Will you be participating this quarter?”

“Will I be able to manage it on top of school?” Prompto asked. “It seemed like an either/or scenario.”

“You could do both,” Ignis closed the folder and set it aside. “Many of the younger Crownsguard are enrolled in higher education. The senior officers are partially in charge of adjusting schedules to fit the needs of their squad members. Let’s just say that if you get in, which you will, you will have a squad leader that would be… sensitive to your needs.”

“Huh?” Prompto tilted his head in inquiry.

“You’d be assigned to Gladio’s unit,” Ignis clarified. “It’s been decided already. The testing is a mere formality at this point, you’re only being subjected to it because His Majesty wants to keep you from being singled out among your peers.”

“That’s a bit depressing,” Prompto sagged. “I’m only getting in because I’m friends with Noct?”

“Of course not,” Ignis chided. “Obviously, if you completely bombed your testing, you wouldn’t be allowed in. That’s not going to happen, is it?”

“No,” Prompto said, pulling at his sweater. “So Gladio’d be… my boss?”

“Something like that,” Ignis nodded. “As I’ve said, it’s all been decided already. You can attend college and gain the training you’ll need should you continue your friendship with the future King of Lucis.”

“Well, obviously I’ll be Noct’s friend forever,” Prompto rolled his eyes. “The guy won’t be able to get rid of me. I’m a barnacle!”

Ignis chuckled softly. “Good to hear. Well, now that is settled, would you like me to drop you off anywhere? I must make my way to our Prince’s apartment and see that he awakens before noon.”

“I think I’m going to walk, actually,” Prompto said, pushing out his chair and grabbing up the bag of his remaining pastries. “It’s a nice day and I’m feeling pretty good for only having three hours of sleep.”

“Perhaps you should make your way home to get some _rest_ ,” Ignis suggested, an eyebrow raised. “You have early morning training with Master Rentel, do you not?”

“Yes, father,” Prompto teased. “Tell Noct I miss him, and that I’m sorry I wasn’t up for hanging out yesterday.”

“Good day, Prompto,” Ignis bid him farewell and went to the counter to order himself another coffee.

Prompto stepped out into the slightly windy day, trotting over to the fountain park to take a few pictures. As he reached into his bag to grab his camera, his hand bumped against his phone, and he realized he’d spent most of the morning with it off.

The device booted up and he was overwhelmed with text messages, the top of the pile from Noctis.

 **nyaaa-ctis:** Will you fuckin text gladio already hes driving me up a wall  
**nyaaa-ctis:** What the hell did u do to him anyway

 _What the-?_ Prompto paled. _Why would he drag Noct into this?_

 **prom-bomb:** sorry noct, my phone was off all morning while i talked to iggy  
**prom-bomb:** i’ll get back to him now  
**nyaaa-ctis:** Good i’m sick of his drunk/hungover shit he’s been texting me since 7am and i’m not about to lose my sunday sleeping in time  
**prom-bomb:** ignis is on his way to wake you up rn  
**nyaaa-ctis:** Godsdamnit prom 

Prompto backed out of the conversation with Noctis and found that the next pile was from Ignis from this morning, and below that, a volley of texts from a clearly drunk Gladio.

 **g_a:** prom I knw I fuckt up the othr night but im sorry  
**g_a:** it was good  
**g_a:** bettrr than good rlleya ngl  
**g_a:** but there ar complcatd thgns that i dndnt think of in the mometn  
**g_a:** and we needd to tal about them but yuo ignrode me an d now i dont knw what tot do  
**g_a:** i wish yuoud call me  
**g_a:** prom this sucks

Prompto’s heart contracted at the drunken rantings that made perfect sense despite the numerous out-of-character typos. The rest of the messages were clearly from this morning after he’d had a chance to sober up a bit.

 **g_a:** Shit, Prompto, I’m sorry about the drunk texts. I should have put my phone in the freezer like I usually do when I get hammered, but I guess I just had to pour my heart out there.  
**g_a:** I could put it all out on the table here, but I really wish you would come over so we could have this conversation in person.  
**g_a:** Are you really just never going to speak to me again?  
**g_a:** You know, you were the one that ran away that night, not me.  
**g_a:** Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m hungover and also an asshole.  
**g_a:** What I mean is, I would have cleared all of this up that night, but when you left, I wanted to give you a little space to cool off. I should have just come after you. I’m sorry.

Prompto debated calling Gladio, but decided that he would rather have this conversation in person, as Gladio had suggested.

 **prom-bomb:** iggy did you leave for noct’s yet?  
**ignasty:** I was just about to pull out of the lot. Did you need something?  
**prom-bomb:** would you be able to drop me at gladio’s place? he wanted to talk to me about something.  
**ignasty:** Of course, come on back. He could probably use some looking after this morning. Perhaps we should order him a drink?  
**prom-bomb:** seems like he’s had enough drinks already doesn’t it?  
**ignasty:** Ha, ha. Indeed.


	3. fit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto follows his heart.

Prompto pressed the call button to Gladio’s apartment while Ignis waited in the car to make sure he got inside. For a long, heart wrenching moment, there was no answer, and finally, just as agonizingly, the speakerbox hissed with static before Gladio’s voice responded.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me,” Prompto said, gently. “Can I come up?”

“Yeah, of course,” Gladio replied, and the door buzzed as it unlocked. Prompto pulled the handle and waved to Ignis, sending him on his way to Noctis. The elevator ride was almost painfully long, going all the way up to the thirteenth storey, and Prompto had to rip his sweater off and stuff it into his bag when he became too warm with nerves.

He had just finished smoothing his hair when the door dinged and _whooshed_ open, Gladio leaning against the wall of the tiny hallway with one elbow against the surface, gripping his clearly splitting head in his hand. He was disheveled, his hair still braided but only barely; loose sweatpants pooling over his feet and no shirt whatsoever.

Prompto stepped out onto the wooden floor of the hall, his boots clacking loudly in the echoing chamber. Gladio winced.

“Sorry,” Prompto said, reaching down to tug off his boots. “I wasn’t expecting to be on hangover duty when I got dolled up for Ignis today.”

Gladio snorted an amused breath through his nose, but grimaced as it must have shaken his skull in just the wrong way.

“Come on in,” The larger man offered. “I’m just gonna grab a water and like, a thousand aspirin.”

“Sure,” Prompto nodded, settling his boots and bag down near the door. “Can I make you something to eat? Something greasy to soak up all the alcohol?”

“Ugh,” Gladio grimaced, gently shaking his head and holding a hand to his stomach. “Definitely not at that stage yet. Water only.”

“Gotcha,” Prompto sat at one of the high backed bar stools at the marble kitchen island. “Are you sure you’re in a state to talk?”

“Probably not,” Gladio confessed. “But I want to.”

“Okay,” Prompto watched him putter around the kitchen, grabbing a glass and a bottle of pills, downing a few with a healthy swallow of water. He took a moment at the sink to gather himself and set the glass in the sink.

“Let’s sit,” Gladio gestured to the enormous sectional couch. He chose the end with an arm, propping himself against it for support as he laid a knee against the back cushion. Prompto joined him, one cushion away, feeling awkward and like he would prefer to sit ten feet away on the other end. The chasm of space between them felt that big.

“Prom,” Gladio began, sighing, “I really, really fucked up the other night. And last night. I’m a moody asshole sometimes and I let it go too far.”

Prompto didn’t know how to respond. There was no denying that Gladio’s words were true, and he wasn’t about to brush it off to save his feelings. He simply waited for the older man to continue.

“Friday night,” Gladio paused, trying to choose his words carefully. “I don’t do that.”

“Okay,” Prompto said, unconvinced. He’d personally witnessed Gladio ushering women into his car to go home with him. He was almost herded to Gladio’s place last night at the club!

“I’m serious,” Gladio pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know it looks like I take women home all the time, and maybe I try to cultivate that reputation, but it usually ends with a generous helping of disappointment. On both sides.”

“Why?” Prompto asked, even though he definitely didn’t want to think more about Gladio and his various conquests, or lack thereof. It didn’t really matter to him. Or did it? Was he really ‘special’ enough for Gladio to have lost himself in him the other night? Prompto stopped himself from physically shaking that wretched thought out of his head. Friday was less than special.

Gladio wouldn’t look at him. “I’m,” He hesitated, chewing on the words. “Gay.”

“Uh, yeah?” Prompto raised an eyebrow. “I mean, at least a little, right? You obliterated my ass with some finesse, I expected you had experience.”

“No,” Gladio worked his jaw, wrestling with the rest of his words. “Not Bi, Prompto. Gay. I’ve tried being with women. But it never… gets a rise out of me.”

“Oh,” Prompto nodded, softly. He couldn’t relate; there were a few women that had caught his eye over the years. But he sympathized. “You’ve… never been with another guy before me?”

“No,” Gladio answered. “But, that’s not really what fucked me up the other night.”

“Then what was it?”

“You’re about to enter the Crownsguard,” Gladio answered. “I’m gonna be your superior. It’s all been set up-”

“Yes,” Prompto interrupted, “Ignis has told me all about it.”

“Okay,” Gladio waved a hand at him, as if he was holding up a platter. “So you see what the problem is, then?”

“I guess,” Prompto shrugged. “We can’t fuck, because you’ll be my boss. Fine. Pretty convenient way to get out of it.”

Gladio scoffed, and immediately scrunched his eyes shut. “Get out of it. Like I want to cut my arm out of a behemoth trap or something. Astrals.”

Prompto looked away, embarrassed, trying to hide his face behind a hand adjusting his glasses.

“Prompto,” Gladio grabbed his wrist and pulled it away from his face. “I wasn’t kidding. I’ve been thinking about you for months. When you said you wanted to join the Crownsguard, you became more than just the kid that hung around the Prince - you showed me you were serious. You were making a huge commitment to spending your life with him, and Iggy and I.”

Prompto’s eyes widened in understanding. It was the tipping point for Gladio to trust him.

“All the attraction I’d been feeling for you, it no longer felt frivolous,” Gladio explained. “It’s why I was so pissed when you didn’t ask me for help. I thought you were just blowing smoke.”

“I just didn’t want to burden you or make you responsible for my achievements,” Prompto countered. “I wanted to earn it myself.”

“And do you see why I was so fucking hard for you that night?” Gladio yelled, pressing a fist to his temple in pain. “You did all the work yourself, you got ripped and _you took me down_. Maybe not to the mat, but I couldn’t get out of your grip.”

Prompto squirmed, Gladio’s unrelenting praise sending a flood of arousal to his core. Breaking eye contact, he glanced down to see that Gladio was much in the same state, his impressive length pushing up the loose fabric of his sweats.

Gladio noticed his gaze and huffed an amused breath. “Yeah, I’m fucking hard for you right now, too, with a terrible hangover screaming through my brain. It’s a _problem_. How do you think it’s going to be during training?”

Prompto blushed, burying his face in his hands. “Shit.”

“Yeah, ‘shit’ is right.” Gladio swiped a hand over his face. “I’m not going to be able to handle watching you taking out your peers in tight shorts and flashing that cocky grin you shot at me the other night. I’m going to need to wear a cage around my dick during drills.”

“Gods,” Prompto breathed. “Are you aware of what all this praise is doing to me? Or is it an accident?”

“I suspected you had a thing for it,” Gladio smirked. “But thanks for confirming my hunch.”

“What are we going to do?” Prompto shook his head. “Gladio, if this is the only obstacle to being together… it’s absurd.”

“I haven’t had much time to think about it,” Gladio huffed a laugh. “I was too busy trying to get you to talk to me, then getting angry as fuck and wanting to plow some random ass stranger, then losing my godsdamn mind when the gorgeous dude at the club _was you_. It’s been a rough weekend.”

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed. “No kidding.”

“Come here,” Gladio reached out for him, and Prompto scooted over, into Gladio’s embrace, trying to find a neutral place to put his hands and avoiding the jut of Gladio’s still insistent erection. “We’ll put our heads together and come up with a solution.”

“Interesting choice of words,” Prompto commented with a smirk, pointedly looking down at both of their laps. Gladio laughed a deep rumble and didn’t wince, the aspirin finally taking effect.

“Don’t distract me,” Gladio complained. “It’s not going to fix our problem.”

“No, it won’t,” Prompto agreed. “But it will definitely make me feel a lot better about the last forty-eight hours.”

“Mmm,” Gladio grunted, his resolve crumbling. “Maybe if you can be quick.”

“Oh, honey,” Prompto grinned, spurred on and adopting his carefree attitude from the club. He swung a leg over Gladio’s spread thighs, pressing their straining lengths together. “I think we established the other night that we’re both pretty good at being quick.”

“Yeah, that was embarrassing,” Gladio sighed, shifting into a more comfortable tangle of limbs as Prompto began to mouth at his neck.

“It’s okay,” Prompto teased. “It happened to me, my first time, too. You’ll build up your stamina.”

“Hey-” Gladio barked, but was silenced by a rough kiss. He pulled away, indignantly. “You came right alongside me.”

“Shhhh,” Prompto pressed a finger to his mouth, and Gladio bit at it. “This time, let’s take our clothes off, okay? I didn’t bring a spare outfit with me and walking home the other night was awkward to say the least.”

“Oh, don’t tempt me to get you filthy,” Gladio challenged him. “I’ve got this one shirt I think you’d look good in…”

“Stop convincing me,” Prompto moaned as Gladio bent him back against the couch cushions, burying his mouth against the smaller man’s neck to bite him at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

Gladio sat back up, one knee on the couch, the other leg supporting him from the ground. His broad fingers hooked into Prompto’s leggings and tugged them down and off in one motion. Prompto helped by ripping his shirt over his head, knocking his glasses off and onto the carpeted floor.

“Oh, shit,” Prompto groped blindly. “Grab them, will you? I won’t be able to get home without them.”

“Yep,” Gladio bent and put them on the coffee table, dropping his loose sweatpants to the floor before rejoining Prompto on the sofa. They kissed lazily, both of them ignoring Gladio’s “quick” stipulation. “So can you really not see at all without them?”

Prompto grabbed Gladio’s rough chin in his hand and pulled his face close, squinting. “Who are you?”

“Ugh,” Gladio laughed pitifully into Prompto’s neck. “Shut up.”

“Shut me up,” Prompto demanded.

“You got it,” Gladio nodded and slipped down the length of Prompto’s body to nose at his manhood standing quite emphatically at attention. “Gods, you’re so soft.” He mouthed the base, his sac and pale thighs, beard scraping sweetly and the after burn setting the rest of him on fire.

“Gladio,” Prompto moaned, trying to widen his thighs, to get Gladio to push thick fingers inside.

“Prom,” Gladio breathed, and then slipped hot lips over his member, nose nestled in wirey curls, tongue torturous along the underside of his shaft.

“Astrals, Gladio!” Prompto cried, surprised that he was now buried to the hilt in Gladio’s mouth. “How?”

Gladio popped off his length, smirking up at him. “I have no gag reflex. Lucky you.”

“Shit,” Prompto arched as Gladio resumed. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Gladio only moaned around his dick in response, and Prompto thrashed as best he could underneath the large man and his insistent hands and mouth.

“Gladio,” Prompto pleaded after a few short minutes. “Let me do you!”

Gladio released him, scooting back up to bite at Prompto’s neck and ears. “I don’t know if you can exactly do _that_ , babe.”

“Maybe not,” Prompto admitted. “But don’t you want to watch me try?”

“Fuck,” Gladio bit his own lip, imagining it. “I’d love that, but for now, I want to open you up and bury my cock in you again. Is that cool?”

“It is very, _very_ cool,” Prompto agreed.

“I’m gonna go get some lube this time,” Gladio pecked him on the corner of the mouth. “Be right back.”

Prompto laid boneless on the enormous couch and sighed deeply. He was going to be absolutely wrecked for training in the morning.

[*~~|~~*]

It turned out that “quick” meant “half an hour later, and then three more times that night,” but Prompto decided they’d have plenty of time between now and when he actually entered the Crownsguard to figure out how they would deal with it. For now, he was content to drown in the ocean of blankets and pillows in Gladio’s gigantic bed, pressed warmly up against the heated skin of his new lover, watching as the bigger man snored peacefully, enjoying a peaceful and satisfying evening after a horrible, agonizing weekend.

[*~~|~~*]

Gladio’s truck bumped along the cobblestone road near the Citadel as they made their way to Noctis’s apartment for movie night. Prompto angled his hips off the seat, trying to find a position that would ease the discomfort in his ass.

“You really need to get a new car,” Prompto complained. “Ignis has such a lovely model, you can’t feel any of the street when you ride in it.”

“Yeah, I hate that,” Gladio shot back. “Feels like you’re just floating along. I like the feel of the road under me.”

“Well tonight, we’ll play with this toy I have,” Prompto suggested. “Then we’ll see how much you like the cobble under your wheels.”

“Sorry, babe,” Gladio apologized, genuinely, a warm hand on his thigh. “We’ll give you a break tonight. Maybe not with the toy you mentioned, but I wouldn’t mind you finally taking a turn.”

“If you can convince me to take care of myself, sure,” Prompto laughed. “In the moment, it’s hard to remember that the next day is a problem. I’m just crazy for that dick.”

“I’ll be the voice of reason, then,” Gladio promised. “Your ass is hereby shut down for business, for tonight.”

Prompto faked a pout, but pressed himself up against Gladio’s shoulder as the bigger man drove.

“You’re sure we should tell them?” Prompto asked after a few moments had passed. “They’re not gonna freak out?”

“Of course not,” Gladio glanced at him. “Are you really worried that they’d be against it?”

“Well, why didn’t you come out to them, if they’re so cool?”

“Because it didn’t matter, then,” Gladio furrowed his brow. “There was no one to be out about. It’s going to be weird hiding this from them. Not to mention unnecessary. Unless you’re just in this for the thrill of a secret romance?” He grinned to take the bite out of his words.

“It does have its appeal,” Prompto admitted. “But no. I mean, if you think it’s going to go over well, then I want them to know. Then we can make out in front of them when the feeling strikes.”

Gladio barked a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure they’re going to love that.”

[*~~|~~*]

“So, we’re…” Gladio began, slipping a hand into Prompto’s. “We’re together.”

Prompto’s heart hammered in his chest, glancing from Ignis to Noctis and back. The two of them looked at each other with a mix of confusion and hesitation.

“Um, duh?” Noctis said. “I mean, I figured that out the night Gladio got drunk and texted me all night.”

“It was rather obvious,” Ignis nodded. “What with his ramblings.”

“What?!” Prompto laughed. “What did he say?!”

“Uhh,” Gladio hesitated. “Wait, I don’t remember…”

Noctis pulled out his phone and scrolled to the conversation from two weeks prior, handing it to Prompto.

“Now, hold on,” Gladio tried to grab the phone away.

“Come on, babe,” Prompto leaned out of his range. “How bad could it be?”

“I literally have no idea,” Gladio insisted, still fighting for the device. “I can’t remember anything from that night after you left.”

“Well, let’s just see, shall we?” Prompto batted his hand away.

**gladiolASS:** noct is prom with u  
 **gladiolASS:** i gotat talk to him an he wont answer hisp hone  
 **gladiolASS:** i love him noct  
 **gladiolASS:** i fucd up rel bad  
 **gladiolASS:** an now hell neer talk to me agan  
 **noct knight:** Gladio shut the fuck up and sleep it off you idiot  
 **noct knight:** He’ll call you in the morning just apologize  
 **noct knight:** You know he’s crazy about you too so just calm down  
 **gladiolASS:** no hes not man  
 **gladiolASS:** hes so pretyt  
 **gladiolASS:** and badass  
 **gladiolASS:** and im’ this big dum oaf that is pervin on his future subordnat  
 **gladiolASS:** im the worst  
 **noct knight:** Shiva’s tits, gladio GO TO BED  
 **gladiolASS:** Hey Noct, sorry about last night, I don’t know what I said to you because all my messages have been deleted but I feel like I remember texting you.  
 **noct knight:** Oh my gods you really ARE the worst, you were right  
 **gladiolASS:** Ouch.  
 **noct knight:** Just leave me out of this and make up with him already, i am trying to sleep  
 **gladiolASS:** Sorry, forgot it was Sunday. Talk later.

Prompto nearly burst with adoration and slipped an arm around Gladio’s torso as he handed Noctis his phone back.

“Okay, thanks for that, it was great,” Prompto downplayed his absolute joy, “But I feel like I should tell you how cute it is that you are listed in Gladio’s phone as ‘NoctASS’. You guys are perfect friends.”

Noctis snorted a laugh and turned to lounge in the living area.

“So what did he say to you?” Prompto looked at Ignis as Gladio groaned in embarrassment.

“It was pretty much the same, only with a lot more vomit,” Ignis shrugged. “I really wish that mine and Noct’s positions were reversed that night.”

“Oof, sorry, Iggy,” Prompto lamented. “I feel partially responsible. I’ll take you out to coffee twice this week, just tell me which days work for you.”

“Much obliged,” Ignis nodded with a smile. “At any rate, I’m glad to see you were able to work it out. Now what are your plans for your working relationship?”

“Mmm,” Prompto pressed a finger to his mouth in contemplation. “Wing it?”

Gladio muffled a laugh behind his hand when Ignis looked on in disappointment.

“We’ll convene over this issue tomorrow evening,” Ignis softly shook his head. “Honestly, it would truly benefit me if you all could manage not to try every day to destroy your lives.” He began to walk to the kitchen to gather snacks.

“You’re the best, Iggy,” Prompto extricated himself from Gladio’s arms and followed, hugging the tall man from behind as he rummaged through the cupboards. “Can I help?”

“I should hope so,” Ignis smiled down at the shorter man. “Gladio, you too.”

“Of course,” Gladio mock bowed and joined them in the kitchen, pulling drinks from the refrigerator and gathering them on a tray while Ignis and Prompto piled cheese and crackers on a serving tray and Noctis selected a movie.

Prompto had begun the year worried over the future, and his place in Insomnia… now his future was looking more and more full with success and family and love. Forget what the rest of the Crown City had to say, his place was here, right next to his best friends, keeping them safe and filling their walls with photos of the four of them together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I always need to end these on a sappy note? Maybe someday I will write something truly dark and satisfy my hunger for it. For now, Gladio and Prompto need to kiss forever. Thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by [these](https://kaciart.tumblr.com/post/171535901243) [two](https://kaciart.tumblr.com/post/163340512118) pieces of art by the fabulous Kaciart.
> 
> You can find me on twitter @fictionalthirst


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